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From Bay Bulls Harbour we set sail,
The wind was blowing a devil of a gale;
All our ring tails set and our bafflin' is in peak,
And our dolphin striker's ploughing up the deep.
With a big bow wow,
Tow row row,
Fol dee rol dee ride all day.
Our captain he comes up from down below,
He looks aloft and he looks alow;
He looks alow and he looks aloft,
Sayin' let's coil those ropes, boys, fore and aft.
With a big bow wow,
Tow row row,
Fol dee rol dee ride all day.
And back to his cabin he quickly crawls,
And unto the steward he loudly bawls;
Go and get me a drink that'll make me cough,
For it's better weather here than it is up aloft.
With a big bow wow,
Tow row row,
Fol dee rol dee ride all day.
It's we poor sailors standin' on the deck,
With the blasted rain pourin' down our necks;
And not a drop of grog will he to us afford,
And he damns our eyes with every other word.
With a big bow wow,
Tow row row,
Fol dee rol dee ride all day.
It's just one thing we sailors crave,
For him to find a watery grave;
We'll shove him down in a dark deep hole,
Where the sharks will have his body,
And the devil take his soul!
With a big bow wow,
Tow row row,
Fol dee rol dee ride all day.
With a big bow wow,
Tow row row,
Fol dee rol dee ride all day.
- Album:
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- Songs for a Sunday Morning
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- Silly Songs
- More Silly Songs
- Singalongs & Shanties
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- Certified Trad. Music
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